


Conceding to a Fault

by DesaturatedDemon (Pastellorama), Pastellorama



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional, Explicit Language, Fighting, Gen, Hunt, Hurt, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Language, Monster - Freeform, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Tension, argument, broken trust, monster hunter world - Freeform, no comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastellorama/pseuds/DesaturatedDemon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastellorama/pseuds/Pastellorama
Summary: When Brute Wyvern Hunter Thierry invites Bird Wyvern Hunter Eliza to help him with his dream hunt, he expects to find new knowledge and growth in her companionship and aid. Unfortunately, things don't work out so easily and the two are left riled and uncertain of who's really in the wrong.Maybe you know?
Kudos: 1





	1. The Fear

Thierry set down his glaive, chucking his goggles across the room and onto his bed as a deep frown settled into his face. It wasn't going right. He'd thought he'd made the right choice when he'd asked Eliza to help him with a particularly difficult hunt, but now he wasn't so sure. 

He'd been planning the hunt for months, gathering resources and upgrading his gear. He'd spent hours upon hours in the field, looking for materials and running errands and doing this-and-that for the residents of Astera all to earn a little coin just so he could pull off this hunt... and now? It just wasn't working. He couldn't fathom why. He'd been meticulous in his planning. He'd studied the beast he was after, tracked it and researched it. Knew it's movements, knew how it fought, knew _everything_ there possibly was to know.

The only thing missing was a second pair of hands. He couldn't do it on his own, and he'd had no problem admitting that. But... Eliza was there. In the late hours, when they'd been bunking down, they would talk and tell each other about their field-work; the things they hoped to accomplish in the New World, their opinions of the food in Astera, mutual bitching about their Handlers... conversation between them had been natural and relaxing. 

And then it wasn't. 

Thierry didn't know why. He couldn't bridge the gap between Eliza's behavior when they were without purpose and the strange and contrasting figure she became in the field. She was fun and open when they talked in Astera, bubbly and often smiling, and she had so much to say. But, out there? She withdrew. Her eyes became hard, she barely acknowledged him, and communication ceased.

He didn't get it. Why did she change so much between those two places?

They'd failed again this week. Their mission had been a bust, and somehow it felt even worse than the last two tries. Time was ticking by, and they had nothing to show for their efforts. It wouldn't have normally bothered Thierry. He hadn't expected it to be easy—it was a large endeavor, and he'd expected to fail more than once and hopefully come back with new knowledge that would, maybe, ensure the next time wasn't a failure.

Eliza wasn't the same. She was frustrated at the first failure, but she tried to smile and force some feedback through her gritted teeth when they'd discussed it at the canteen later that night. They hadn't stuck to the original plan, and perhaps that was the problem, but Thierry wasn't sure if he should broach that subject. She seemed agitated enough.


	2. The First Try

The plan had been simple enough, or at least Thierry had felt it was. 

They would go out into the field. Start at the Northeast camp. Work their way towards the Northwest camp, then the Southwest camp if they hadn't found their prey already. They were supposed to have traps. Three each, a manageable number. They could make them on their own, or buy them elsewhere if that was too much work. They'd lay their traps once they'd found their prey, and, should the beast stumble upon one of their traps, then they just needed to use any of the whistles or cries they'd been trained to use to call for assistance. 

They'd descend upon the monster and work together to take it down. If Thierry needed a moment to breathe, to down a potion and ward off the pain of an open wound, then Eliza would be there to cut into the beast next. And, should she get thrown or her blade dull, he would likewise be there to cover her until she was on her feet and with him again.

Track the monster, trap the monster, kill the monster. Easy. 

But it wasn't.

On their first try, Eliza was late. She tumbled into camp after poorly latching herself to a Mernos, one that seemed a tad too young to be carrying anyone just yet. Her face had seemed expressionless, and Thierry swallowed any questions he had regarding her timing. She'd at least come, right?

But then, she hadn't brought any traps. She hadn't had time, she said, and Thierry nodded and gave her understanding for it. Everyone was busy in Astera. It wasn't an unlikely or unimaginable idea that she just hadn't had enough time to make traps or even purchase some. Her Handler could've been running her ragged for all he knew.

Thankfully, Thierry had over-prepared in his anxiousness to really put himself to the grindstone and succeed in this hunt. He'd had six in his bag, and he thought to offer three to Eliza before realizing that she'd never worked with one of his own handmade traps. It wasn't like they were particularly difficult, but it did take a moment to learn them. They weren't standard. So, for ease of convenience, Thierry kept them in his bag and decided to let it be his responsibility.

She worked hard enough as is, he told himself. He could manage this part on his own, and give her less to worry about.

They'd begun their hunt—had started trying to track down the monster. It was slow going, though. Thierry was trying to place traps, but Eliza seemed distracted. At some point during their travels, she'd pulled out a little leather journal and begun writing meticulously in it. She'd stop repeatedly and devote herself to drawing overly detailed diagrams of plant-life and insects and even rocks. 

Thierry tried to politely redirect her focus when she nearly stepped on one of the traps he'd set, and she'd hummed some sort of acknowledgment at him before slapping her notebook closed. But he could see her fingers drumming on her satchel, itching to pull it back out every time they passed something of interest. 

Thierry wouldn't have minded it at all if they'd come out to do work for the Research Center. He'd even have joined her and enjoyed it. But, it wasn't what they'd come to do this time. Thierry found her distraction a little disconcerting.

They'd eventually returned to Astera much later than they'd planned. They'd been close to the beast, Thierry had felt it, but they hadn't stumbled upon it. Not yet, and that had been okay.

That night, when checking over his weapon, he'd realized there was a warp in the staff of his glaive. A bad one, even, one that could've resulted in the entire weapon snapping if he'd chosen to use it to vault himself over the monster while in combat. He was grateful to have not found the beast just yet, knowing he could've seriously been hurt if that had occurred.


	3. The Second Try

“You ready to kill this beast?” Eliza had asked the second time they'd gone into the field.

Thierry had smiled, certainly feeling like he'd prepared better this time. He'd taken the time to have his weapon repaired—had checked it over, used it in the training arena and made sure it worked proper before dedicating himself to another attempt at hunting. Everything seemed fine.

Eliza hadn't packed any traps again, but Thierry was prepared for that and had made another six . Somewhere during the week, it seemed like they'd had a discussion regarding the traps. Some sort of understanding that, yes, it would simply be better if Thierry handled the traps in their entirety. Maybe he'd imagined it, that little moment of agreement, but Eliza didn't say anything to or seem at all phased by his abundance of traps. 

They'd set off from the Northeast camp again with confidence, Thierry feeling like maybe they'd get lucky and accomplish their goal with only one failure behind them.

Things started to fall apart quickly, though. It rained upon them, a downpour even. The ground became slick with mud, the traps sinking into puddles and becoming useless. Thierry had tried to save one before forcing himself to acknowledge that it was no longer of any use. So they didn't have traps like he'd wanted, and the terrain was difficult and tracking was almost impossible... but Thierry clung to his hope.

Until things went _really_ wrong. 

They'd found the beast, Thierry's single working eye lighting up as he took in it's splendor. It's size was incredible, awe-inspiring even, and its colors were rich. He wanted it so bad. Wanted to feel the dying pulse of its heart, to transport its massive carcass back to Astera and show the others what he'd worked so hard for. 

He'd launched himself at the creature. Thrown himself into fighting it. Even if things were poor, and it wasn't going well, if he just worked hard enough... perhaps he could get the victory he desired. But then, when his kinsect had missed its mark and somehow gotten tangled in the undergrowth, Eliza wasn't there. Thierry scrambled to try and free the damn bug, and their prey slipped away.

When he finally located Eliza, she was standing nearby writing in her little leather journal again. Thierry wasn't even sure if she'd unsheathed her weapon the entire time. 

They'd resigned themselves to their defeat once again, and returned to Astera. At the canteen, Thierry and Eliza had talked through the hunt a little and reviewed it. Ultimately, Thierry felt the entire trip had been a waste. They'd lost all their traps to mud, his kinsect had messed up terribly and it was, in part, his own fault for giving it poor guidance, and it felt like they'd learned nothing useful from the entire experience. Other than, perhaps, “aim better”. 

“Why do you keep writing in that journal when we're hunting?” Thierry had asked Eliza as they ate.

She'd shrugged. “Gives my hands something to do while I think.”

Thierry had left it at that, deciding perhaps this was just part of how Eliza hunted. She was a formidable hunter, he couldn't deny that. He'd seen some of the trophies she'd brought back. Her specialty was Flying Wyverns, and Thierry had thought her knowledge in that area would be helpful regardless of what he was hunting. Maybe there was an area of overlap they had missed before, a bit of useful information that Thierry would never have considered prior if not for Eliza.

“Hey, Eliza?” Thierry had said near the end of their meal, when there wasn't much more to say regarding the days failure but he still felt a need to ensure all their bases were covered. “Do you think you can communicate a little more with me when we're out in the field? I just need a little more verbal acknowledgment—I can't always see your face or if you're nodding when my back's to you.”

She'd mulled it over for a moment, some struggle occurring within her as she tried to put to words a complex thought or feeling. “I... I don't think I can. I've worked really hard to lessen how much I talk when I'm out there—my mouth has gotten me in trouble in the field before. Given away a hiding spot, or startled a tough to track prey... I don't want a resurgence of that habit.”

Thierry had frowned. “I don't need you to be singing or anything. Just an occasional grunt or a yes or no.”

“No. I have a bad habit of being too talkative in the field. It's been an issue, I don't want it to be one anymore.”

“I... I _know_ ,” Thierry had said as understandingly as he could manage. “But... I'm _not_ asking for you to have a conversation. I'm just asking for-”

“No,” Eliza had clipped.


	4. The Third Try

Their next attempt had felt so strongly like it was going to be the success Thierry had been waiting for. He'd had all his traps prepared, had even already scouted out locations for them ahead of time just to be sure. This way, even if it rained, the traps wouldn't go to waste. He'd reviewed his plan with his Handler, and been given a nod and a few words of encouragement. A clap on the shoulder, a reassuring smile.

Thierry was confident this time. He'd rolled his shoulders repeatedly in excitement and anticipation, a bounce in his step as they found signs of their prey. A foot print here, scratches there, the occasional glob of mucus. He laughed to think that he now saw something as disgusting as mucus as a _good_ thing. Something that actually made him smile, of all the bizarre reactions one could have to the thick, slimy substance.

Eliza wrote in her journal, and Thierry didn't question it and told himself again that it must be a tool for focusing. Trap placement seemed fine. He'd spent another week in the training arena working with his kinsect and glaive to ensure there would absolutely be _no_ mistakes with it this time. 

Eliza and Thierry had worked their way steadily from the Northwest camp down to the Southwest camp, after finding only hints that their prey had been between the Northeast and Northwest camp earlier but had left the area. Thierry tried to maintain the positive feelings he'd held when they first set out that day, but Eliza seemed to be becoming increasingly agitated the more they trekked and came across nothing but indications of the monster. It felt like they were at least learning, in Thierry's opinion, and that maybe they just wouldn't kill the beast today simply because they couldn't catch up to it fast enough. That happened sometimes, the occasional hunt where it felt like they were always one step behind, one second too late. It wasn't an error on anyone's part. It just happened.

“I think we need to turn back and look a different direction,” Eliza spoke up, Thierry mentally regarding it as one of the first times she'd given him any feedback while in the field.

“Oh? I wouldn't worry about that. I think we'll be fine if we stay on the current track,” Thierry disagreed, trying to force a small grimace into a smile. He'd studied the monster's pattern, and he knew going back wouldn't be of any use. It was a creature of habit, and it had a clear pattern of movement. Thierry knew that, and he'd been pretty certain he'd communicated as much to Eliza.

Thinking on it, he had recalled giving her a few notes he'd written regarding his original studying of the monster. Hadn't she read them yet? He guessed she hadn't. She was busy, he'd told himself again.

“Well, I just want to make sure you succeed at this. That you get what you want,” Eliza had continued.

“I am!” Thierry had said, pushing himself to laugh so maybe some of the heaviness would dissipate and things could feel relaxed again. He didn't like how stiff things felt. The air, the conversation, his limbs all the way down to his fingers. Being someone who used their weapon to get up in the air and seemingly fly required a sort of limberness; an easiness in attitude. It was a mentality that seeped into every bit of Thierry and made him fight against any sort of constraining behavior.

Thierry found himself babbling a little, talking about some of the reasons he wanted to hunt this particular monster so bad and trying to engage Eliza in the conversation with him in someway. Maybe he could get her to talk about her own hunts, her big ones and how it'd felt or how she'd accomplished them. In the end, she didn't take any cues he could think to give her, only writing in her journal and occasionally giving him a bit of information at odd intervals.

It was often bits of advice, but none of it had exactly been applicable to their current situation, so Thierry found himself somewhat nodding through it and trying to seem engaged. The other issue was that Eliza presented it so dryly, like she was reading from a dusty old tome and not speaking her mind about a subject at all. Thierry didn't really know what to do with any of it, but he didn't want to discourage her when she was at least saying _something_.

However, at each bit of advice, a nagging thought in his head kept telling him over and over: _Don't use that advice for this. It could really land you in hot water._

They didn't go home as quickly as they had the last two tries, camping out for the night and taking the time to review how their expedition had gone this time around. Well, Thierry did at least.

Eliza was off in her own world, hunkered down in her tent and speaking softly with her Handler. Thierry didn't disrupt her, knowing that she was probably tired and, again, had other things to do besides help him with this hunt. He took the responsibility of analyzing it and trying to work through what went wrong and how to do better for the next try. 

“I think... we were really close this time,” Thierry had told Eliza in the morning when she'd left her tent to come and join him for breakfast. “But, I still feel like I need a little more communication from you. Just a little.”

Eliza had blown out a sharp breath. “I already told you, I _can't_. I'm trying my best, but I can't undo all the progress I've made.”

“Yeah... okay, I... I understand that. How about a third Hunter, then?” Thierry had found himself proposing the idea without really meaning to. He'd certainly thought about it the past week, and more the night prior, but he hadn't been certain he was ready to present the idea just yet. “That'll take the pressure off you, make communication a little easier for me, and a third could really help us take down this damned creature.” 

“Maybe,” Eliza had answered, without really answering at all.


	5. The Fight

Thierry didn't want to put any more stress on Eliza, and it was that thought process that lead him to find a third Hunter and ask for their assistance without even really knowing if Eliza wanted one at all. He justified it by telling himself that it _was_ his hunt, after all, and he could certainly choose another person to help out without Eliza's initial approval. 

Confident in his choice, Thierry wrote up a missive detailing his new vision for the hunt. He tried to cover everything as concisely as possible, an occasional parenthesized note appearing beside one of his bullet points if he felt there needed to be further explanation. When he thought he had everything down, and that the plan was solid enough, he sent the missive to Eliza and the other Hunter and felt pleased with himself. 

Pleased because he'd found a solution to each of the little issues that had been bothering him. Pleased because he'd discovered a way to achieve his goal and hopefully make it easier for everyone. Pleased because it still felt like things were going to work out and like he was really going to pull this off at last.

The pleasure ended almost abruptly when Eliza approached him in the training arena, disrupting the course he'd been running through under the watchful eye of their Field Team Leader. She was clutching his missive, crumpling it between her fingers, and seemed even more on edge than ever as she eyed him.

Thierry tried to keep working on his glaive techniques as she called out to him.

“Hey! What's this about? I don't understand it.”

“The missive? It's about the hunt we're doing! I thought this might make it easier!” Thierry hollered back just as he managed to launch himself up into the air. His body twisted, arching gracefully as he maneuvered his glaive and slammed it into a barrel upon his descent. The thing shattered, Thierry rolling backwards from it on instinct. A barrel might not try to bite him for hitting it, but a monster sure wouldn't hesitate.

“ _Why_ though?” Eliza demanded, Thierry standing and swallowing air as his chest heaved from the exertion of getting the height he needed. “I don't understand!”

“Well, I thought if we added a third Hunter in it would help take the stress off you to communicate as much... and then I thought of some other things I thought would help, like if we had specific hand signals to communicate instead so you wouldn't have to worry about the verbal issue?” Thierry answered, a soft smile on his face as he mentally congratulated himself for being so clever.

Eliza didn't seem nearly as pleased, a scowl on her face as she looked at him. “I'm getting _really_ frustrated. It feels like you're blaming me for things not going correctly! Every time we debrief after a hunt, you push me again to talk and I already told you I _can't_! I've said it several times, and it's pissing me off that you keep bringing it up like _I'm_ the problem!” 

Thierry's good eye widened in surprise, whatever trace of smile he'd had left dissipating as he listened to her.

“Additionally, it feels like all our previous attempts have been futile! We've come back with nothing every time; nothing to show for our time out there. And, every time we go back out, the bar gets raised and we _still_ have nothing! Speaking from my own experiences with Wyvern Hunting, we're not going to get anywhere if we don't stick to a solid plan and actually get the damn bird on the ground!” she rattled off, her eyes glistening with what Thierry recognized as potential tears of frustration. 

He knew them all too well to call them anything else.

“And, you know, I've talked to other Hunters about it and they agree with me! That you shouldn't be pushing me to talk in the field when it's a bad habit of mine and I'm trying not to indulge it! I thought maybe you could just learn to look at me more often so I could communicate with my face, but _apparently_ that's not the case.” She took a deep breath, Thierry realizing she wasn't done still and leaning on his glaive while she gathered herself. “Instead, you introduced hand signals! My _expression_ should've been enough! And, while I understand your suggestions on the missive for what plan to follow, you didn't even _ask_ me my opinion first! You just made those changes and decisions without even talking to me.”

Thierry couldn't even think of what to say, and it was probably for the best as Eliza still managed to somehow continue.

“Honestly, I don't think I'm right for this hunt. You clearly need someone more talkative than me who's comfortable with being vocal in the field, and that's not me. If this was a good partnership, we would've had our kill by now and you wouldn't be “struggling” so hard with all my _flaws_.” Her final words were venomous and spiteful, Thierry unable to ignore the mocking undertones in her voice and how it stung him. 

He hesitated to respond, uncertain if Eliza had said her piece. His eye flicked towards their Field Team Leader, noticing that the man had somehow conveniently wandered away from the arena. When it became evident she was done, he opened his mouth to speak and found it working at words that did not come. A few starts, and he thought he knew what to say.

“I'm not sure I'm following... but, my issue is that you and I talk all the time when we're here in Astera and it's easy and we communicate so well. But, when we get in the field, you clam up and I can't communicate with you the way I'm used to. The way I _expected_. I decided on hand signals because reading a face is hard for me with only one eye—especially in the midst of a fight. It's not exactly easy to take in an entire expression and decipher what it means when I'm trying not to be eaten by a Barroth, you know? And, I thought you wanted a guideline... to clear things up. I thought that would help you, since you seem upset we haven't caught our quarry yet.”

Thierry was trying his best to address each of her points and not make it sound like her fault, but the more he talked the more it felt like it was _exactly that_.

“I mean, the only time you've given me any real feedback in the field was to tell me we should go a different way. It wasn't really a good suggestion, or necessary at the time, since I _know_ the monster's habits and knew it wouldn't go back on its path. I know you have a lot of hunting experience with Bird Wyverns, and that you're using that to inform you as we hunt. I don't have the same experience, but I _do_ have experience hunting Brute Wyverns. So I know that my approach is reasonable and sound, and that this beast can be conquered,” Thierry continued, a knot forming in his stomach as he talked.

It felt like all the musculature in his abdomen had gone cold, and his fingers felt numb and useless as they gripped his glaive. He swallowed, trying to remember why he'd written the missive. Because he thought it would help. Because he thought it was what Eliza wanted.

“I'm... I'm not trying to sound like I'm blaming you, and maybe I wasn't clear enough at the beginning, but I thought you'd look over the notes I gave you regarding the focus of our hunt and that that would answer everything,” he concluded, inhaling shakily.

 _Sure_ , he could beat in the head of an animal eight times his size with a stupid little stick, but confronting another human? One smaller than him even? _That_ was what his instincts considered a threat. The thing that made him sweat beneath his armor and made his heart beat erratically. Made his tongue feel dry and fat and heavy in his mouth, and made the numbness in his fingertips become a prickling sensation that crept its way up to his elbows.

Eliza took a beat, planting her hands on her hips and inhaling deeply through her nose. She walked, somewhat stiffly, in a circle around one of the large boulders that sat in the arena. One lap. Two laps. A third and then a fourth before she finally stopped before Thierry again.

“I need you to clarify,” she requested gravely.

“Of course,” Thierry said readily, eager to somehow mend things and give her whatever she needed to understand what he was thinking. “Just... you want me to be more concise, right?”

“Yes, please.”

“Oh. Okay,” Thierry agreed with a firm nod of his head. Perhaps it wasn't so bad. Maybe this wasn't the dreadful thing his body thought it was going to be. Just a little more communication. He'd pushed her for it, so it was only reasonable she'd ask the same of him. 

“I don't want you to stress in the field. Just leave the planning to me. Your only job is to just be there and support me, and communicate with me when it's _necessary_ to ensure neither of us gets trampled or brained while we're out there. And if you see a moment where you feel you have the tactic we need, just jump in and act on it if you feel it's right. But, I don't want you to worry about taking this beast down for me. It's my hunt, and my responsibility. And, again, I wanted to switch to hand signals because it's easier for me to see. I thought it would be easier for everyone.”

Eliza stared at him, her expression stony before he saw her jaw clench to such a degree he almost thought he could hear her teeth as they buckled against each other in her mouth.

“Fine. I think, then, that it would be best if I do not accompany you on this hunt. I am insulted that you have yet to acknowledge my difficulty with communication, and have continuously crossed this boundary I have set. I can only say it so many times before I start to feel like I'm invisible and unheard. Additionally, I'm hurt that you made it out to be a joint effort—that we were going to hunt this monster together—but then you make changes without even asking me. I get that it's your hunt, and you have a right to control areas of it, but I feel that _this_ crossed a line. It makes me unhappy that you would make decisions like this without even asking me first and then expect me to just follow them.”

The hollow pit inside of him felt like it was flooding with icy water now, the blood in his veins freezing and leaving him stuck where he stood and entirely baffled. What? What was she saying? Hadn't he said the right thing? He'd tried so hard to say the right thing....

“It feels like you're trying to change me as a hunter and force me to hunt the way you do. That's not fair, when the majority of my time is spent hunting a _specific_ way. Making me break out of my tactics and hunting style disregards all the work I've put into learning how to hunt as well as I do, and demeans who I _am_ as a Hunter. You have excuses for every failure we've had, and I feel like we should've met this goal by now!”

Thierry's teeth found his bottom lip. Worried at the soft skin there, pinching it until the metallic taste of blood seeped in and settled on his tongue. 

“You need to find another Hunter, because, personally, I don't think I'm your girl. I don't feel comfortable with the demands you're making of me, and I'm not going to alter who I am or how I hunt. Again, I want you to know how _hurt_ I am that you would disrespect me in this way. We can still hang out during our downtime in Astera, but find another Hunter to help you. I can't.”

She turned her back on him, a heel already solidly stepping away before Thierry could even think to react. She'd gone no more than three paces when the cold in Thierry's stomach changed. No longer just icy, but so cold it _burned_. His face felt warm, too warm, and he was sure the corners of his eyes held the same hot beads of unshed tears that Eliza's had initially.

“That's not fair!” he snapped, the words rushing out of him so quick and so furiously it felt like fire escaping from his mouth. “I did _not_ disrespect you. I worked really hard to meet your needs! I only asked for you to communicate with me in the field, I didn't ask you to have a full-blown conversation out there! How is that in any way disrespecting you? I offered solutions; I suggested a third, I changed the plan based on _your_ style, not mine! I only did any of that because _you_ made it a need!”

Eliza barely glanced over her shoulder at him. “I'm not doing this. I'm the one who's hurt here,” she said firmly.

That infuriated Thierry, the way she could so casually dismiss him and act as if nothing she'd said had been cruel or unwarranted. He felt so tense that he couldn't even find the ability to uncurl his fingers from the glaive he clung to, and maybe that wasn't a bad thing. It might have been the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

“No you're not! You didn't even do any of the original things I asked you to do, which was just to bring some traps and to read my notes. They were short notes—it would've taken you ten minutes, tops. And, of course I agree we can still hang out—a disagreement isn't going to unravel our entire friendship—but you can't just start an argument then walk away from it and say you're the only hurt party when the other person defends themselves!”

Were his hands shaking? Was it obvious by his glaive? He couldn't tell anymore.

“Also, it pisses me off that you're not even acknowledging that I'm fucking _half-blind_. You think that I'm having an easy time with communication? You can understand it's hard for you, but you can't extend that same courtesy to me!?”

When did he become so mad? Where was this vitriol coming from? Stress and pressure to perform, perhaps? Why did it feel like he was letting Eliza down so much when _she_ was letting him down just as badly? He couldn't swallow that. Couldn't accept that everything had to be on him.

“I've set my limit. I can't do this today,” Eliza responded stiffly, turning ever so slightly to face him a little better as she spoke.

“Fine, a later time then. But we are going to resolve this. I'm not going to let this sit here and fester and rot between us. I value you and your expertise, and I refuse to leave things like this between us. Between anyone I care about,” Thierry said, his voice almost an echo of Eliza's own stiffness. His throat ached from the tension in it, the tension that ran down into his chest and strained his voice as he tried to keep his words from wavering.

“I have a right to set my limits, because I'm _not_ dealing with this well right now. And I don't want to press things right now and say things out of anger. I think that's fair,” Eliza retorted, turning on her heel once more and stalking away.

“That is fair, which is why I said _later_!” Thierry called after her. “When we've both cooled off. Because I'm _also_ not in the best frame of mind.” 

She didn't acknowledge him, leaving the training arena and brushing past their Field Team Leader as she went. He seemed to notice something was off in her expression and demeanor, and he raised an eyebrow towards Thierry in question. The look on Thierry's own face must've been enough of an answer, because the man simply resigned himself to leaning against a shipping crate of practice equipment and suggesting Thierry work on his aerial attacks. 

Thierry was grateful to have something to do that would take his mind off things so fully. Something destructive that would burn the excess energy he was feeling from the heat of his conversation with Eliza. He threw himself into his training, not breaking from it until the light was well gone and he was soaked through with sweat all the way down to his small-clothes.


	6. The Unfairness

Thierry sought out his Handler late at night, finding the man hovering in the Botanical Research Center and fussing over an ill looking plant. The guy certainly did seem to like the things, and Thierry usually could find him there when they were between missions in Astera. 

He didn't tell him about the fight with Eliza, leaving out the gritty details and words that were echoing in his head and scraping over his heart like sandpaper. Instead he just spoke about their next attempt at the hunt, gave his Handler a list of items he needed to get before they tried again, and chose a day when they'd go out and try it again. 

He'd hunted on his own plenty of times. He didn't really _need_ another Hunter. His Handler would be enough. His Handler at least knew his hunting style well enough, and mutually listened to him. They set a date, Thierry feeling a small pang of guilt at deciding to move ahead without Eliza before they'd truly settled anything.

But... no. She was the one who had backed out. She'd said it herself, she didn't want to hunt with him anymore. It was perfectly fine for him to move on then and make plans for the future. Immediately, even. He didn't need to wait for her approval, he didn't need it all anymore. He hadn't needed it in the first place.

Still, he found himself waiting for her. Feeling like he was on the edge of a precipice, waiting to either fall forward or step back depending on what she said. But he'd agreed to give it time, even though he didn't want it. Time didn't help him. It only made him more irritable.

Thoughts came to him, nasty ones, pushing at the edges of his mind and scratching their way into his subconscious until they were tainting even his most basic of thoughts. He saw himself in the polished shield of another Hunter, saw the scar and the cloudy pupil of his useless eye. Remembered abruptly how Eliza had mentioned it once. Had called it unattractive, the injury he'd taken and could never be rid of. 

She had apologized immediately, at some point realizing that she had said something perhaps _too_ cruel and unfair. To call to attention the injury that marred his face and had set him back so far in his training as a Hunter, and to somehow manage to entirely miss the fact that there was _nothing_ he could do to change it. He'd already done everything he could. He'd learned to cover his blind spots better. Learned to instinctively turn with his good eye, never the bad, so he always had his target in sight. He'd fought hard to retrain his aim when it became apparent that his now ruined eye had initially been his _good_ eye. 

What more did she expect him to do? Wear a mask to hide the scar, or cover up the useless eye because it might make others uncomfortable? He might as well have just plucked it out then. But why would _he_ have to go so far as to pull out his own eye, even as useless as it may have been, rather than expect the basic compassion that should've been afforded to him in the first place?

Thierry tried to shove the hurt back down. Tried to quash it deep within him. 

He didn't have a right to feel hurt by that anymore. She'd apologized, and he'd stayed calmed and even agreed with her. Had taken her side and been compassionate and understood why she would think that way, even as much as it had hurt him for her to say it so callously. It was too late to be bitter about it now. If he'd been upset then, he should've said something.

Still, it bothered him and became another piece of the song that played in his head nonstop as the day passed.

_It's not fair. That's not fair. This isn't fair. Unfair. Not fair. Unfair. Not fair._

He tried to turn it on himself, make it his problem. _He_ wasn't being fair. _He_ was the one who was wrong. He repeated Eliza's reasons for being upset, telling himself that that _was_ fair, that her demands were fair and that he was mistaken.

It only worked halfway, Thierry coming to the conclusion they both had been too hard on each other. They both had been unfair and unkind, and that was something they could work on together. He could feel confident making amends and taking some of the blame, the part that was rightfully his, and also feel justified in some areas of his decision making.

He waited, giving Eliza the time she'd asked for and trying to be patient. The day he and his Handler had chosen to try again was coming fast. He didn't want to go out there without at least talking to Eliza first. Getting things squared away and smoothing things over between them... but she didn't come to him first. 

It felt wrong to be the one to approach her, when she'd asked for time. But, Thierry sucked that feeling down too and went to find her regardless.


	7. The Apology

This time it was Eliza who was in the practice arena when Thierry found her, her hands clenched tight around a switch axe which she hefted with surprising strength before obliterating a practice dummy. It wasn't her usual weapon, but Thierry didn't question the choice. It wasn't unusual to see Hunters practicing with weapons they were unaccustomed to, trying to fill an area of inexperience in their spare time and ensure even _that_ could no longer be considered a weakness. 

“Hey, can we talk?” he asked, shifting on his feet when she didn't look his way. She finished a series of hits on another dummy before cutting it down where it stood. 

“Yeah, but I'm still training,” Eliza answered, every bit of her answer short in nature. Her words, her breath, the flash of her eyes in his direction before she was moving and striking out again with her weapon.

Thierry nodded. Realized she wouldn't have seen it. Felt his tongue curl in his mouth at the things he needed to say. “Of course. I understand,” he replied, “I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Sorry for getting upset, and for pushing you. I know you're trying to improve as a Hunter, and that you're busy with your own field work and missions. I'm... I'm trying to do better at understanding.”

She gave no indication she'd even heard him, Thierry idly massaging his thumb into his palm and trying to restore the feeling in his hands. When had they gone numb again? Was he really _that_ anxious already?

Eliza continued her savage assaults upon the equipment scattered about the training arena, smashing apart barrels and hacking through dummies. Thierry could see where she was unpracticed with the switch axe, but also see the budding improvement with each swing of its blade. She'd have it mastered in no time.

“I'll... I need time to think. I don't want to talk right now, when I'm trying to focus on training,” Eliza clipped off, her axe singing out as she deftly converted it into something more sword-like and dealt a flurry of blows to an invisible opponent. The sword swung faster, was more receptive to her movements, but it couldn't be kept up for long. Still, anything that met her blade in that state was unlikely to live much longer.

 _Try to understand_ , Thierry told himself as he forced himself to respond. “Okay.” He didn't understand, though. Not really. Hadn't she had time? He'd apologized... what did she need to think about? _Try to understand!_

It was another day still before Eliza talked to him again, Thierry grateful that this time it was when he was lounging on his bed in the sleeping quarters and _not_ when he was wielding cold and heavy metal while bearing the weight of full armor. He offered her a tentative smile, though her own lips were a thin line of seriousness.

“Sorry. I was really busy today with deliveries for the Research Center. Wasn't trying to ignore you, promise,” she offered, Thierry seeing no reason to say anything in return. She moved across the room, picking up an unclaimed shield and furrowing her brow as she looked at her own reflection in it. She set it down again, the silence between them making her feel even further from Thierry than ever. He knew she was in the room, but she might as well have been in the Coral Highlands for all they struggled to talk.

“Thank you for the apology,” Eliza spoke at last, her eyes focusing on him as he sat up on his bed. “I really do appreciate it.”

A bit of hope, just a thread, unwound within Thierry. There was a chance. They could mend things. They could resolve this. Even if the resolution wasn't them hunting together, Thierry at least wanted to ensure their friendship still had some solidity to it. That one bad argument wouldn't ruin the connection they had formed with each other.

But, then Eliza was leaving again, her hand already on the door frame as she moved to push past a scrap of fabric that served as a “door”.


	8. The Wreckage

Thierry's eyebrows lifted in bewilderment. Startled, he found himself swinging his legs off the bed to pursue her. “Wait! That's... that's _it_!?” he asked, the thread of hope snagging in his chest. 

She faltered in her step, stopping and looking back at him with something like confusion. Thierry didn't see it as such, instead identifying it as feigned ignorance. “What? You hurt me and you apologized. I said thanks. What else do you want?”

“What else?” Thierry echoed. “What about _your_ apology?”

“What apology?”

Thierry snorted loudly and pushed his fingers through his hair, nails scratching into his scalp as he felt the burning anger he'd had returning. “You hurt me too,” he bit out between his gritted teeth.

“No I didn't. You kept changing the plan and trying to change me as a Hunter. This is on you,” Eliza said, repeating her early arguments with considerably less words.

Thierry balked at her words, the edges of his lips furling back in a grimace. “No. No, I won't concede it all. That's... it's... no! I already gave so much! You have to give some too!”

“What are you even saying? You haven't given anything! All you've done is make demands!” Eliza snapped back, her voice almost a hiss.

“That is _not_ true,” Thierry disagreed, a defensive tone creeping into his voice. “I have changed almost _everything_ about this hunt for you. I asked you to bring traps, and you _didn't_. I excused it. Told myself you were busy. Took on the task of bringing extra on my own so you wouldn't need to worry. I gave you notes on the monster, so you would understand it better and how it needs to be hunted. You _didn't read them_. So, I tried to help with debriefings and explain it better that way, but you ignored my knowledge and lauded your own instead! I _stopped_ asking you to be vocal in the field, and I offered a third and even worked out hand signals to try and meet _your_ needs. NOT mine. Everything I've done has been at _your_ behest or because _you_ didn't do the work!”

“I-”

“No!” Thierry said forcefully. “It isn't even just those things! I asked you to focus in the field, put your journal away and commit yourself to the hunt. You _didn't_. I conceded that too, decided it maybe did help you focus in some way. I thought you'd at _least_ get your weapon out and fucking _help_ me when we fought the beast, but you didn't do that either! You just stood there with your journal and then made it _my_ fault that we had come back empty handed again!”

“It _is_ your fault!” Eliza retorted scathingly. 

“No it isn't! I wouldn't even feel any desire to label our failures as _anyone's_ fault if you weren't so strongly pushing to make it mine!” Thierry half-snarled. “The first time was naturally inelegant. It was the first try! Of course we would need time to figure things out, really work out a plan, and then it turned out my weapon wasn't made proper anyways. Of course we came back empty handed. There's no shame in that.”

“The second time,” Thierry continued, words pouring from him now, “it was raining and muddy and there was nothing we could do about it. That's nature's fault, not ours. Not yours. Certainly not _mine_. Maybe we could've succeeded, but when I needed you most... you weren't there. Sure, I fucked up my aim, but where were you!?”

“And the last attempt?” he suggested, folding his arms. “That _was_ useless. We didn't learn anything from it. Because there was nothing new to learn—we knew the beast's habits, we had it's trail, we were close and on it... but you refused to listen to me and started introducing Bird Wyvern hunting tactics without taking even a minute to consider why they _wouldn't_ work. You would've known why it wouldn't work if you had _read my notes_.”

“It shouldn't have been that hard!” Eliza whipped in return, her hands dropping to her sides in obstinate fists as she glared at him. “Shouldn't _be_ this hard! I asked you to stop trying to make me vocal in the field, and you kept pushing it!”

Thierry felt the rumble of a growl in the back of his throat. “ _Why_ are you focusing on _just that_!? I have given you my reason already, I have done what I can to to find a solution! The solution can't just be to do it your way only, with no compromise!”

Eliza scoffed and crossed her arms, her posturing as closed as her mind. “Like you're not doing _exactly_ that? Forcing everyone to do things the way you want with no choice?”

The tangled thread of hope in Thierry's chest felt like it had been yanked on too hard, its fibers snapping and stinging him like cut elastic. 

“It's _my_ hunt!” Thierry insisted, though something in his voice felt broken and weak. “I- You- This-” he sputtered, several sentences hovering just out of his reach. “I can't even pretend I understand anymore. This isn't... this isn't-” 

Thierry bit back the word “ _fair_ ”. Forced it back down inside him and tried to stomp on it until it was nothing. He hated that thought process. Wasn't that what children cried out? This isn't fair? 

“Isn't what?” Eliza demanded.

“ _Mutual_ ,” Thierry answered, spitting the word like it was poison upon his tongue. “Forget it. I can't take all the responsibility in this.” He hated that she was blocking the doorway. It should've been _him_ who got to storm out. Not her.

The dread and anxiety that had been coating his innards for days seemed to slip away and come unstuck. It didn't leave, though, oozing its way into his heart and solidifying itself into a hard mass of wariness and distrust. 

“That's not how friendships, or _any_ relationships, work. Not for me, anyways. If that's how yours work, fine, but I'm not going to indulge in your need to be the victim. No one gets to _win_ here, and if you think bullying others into apologizing to you is a victory... you're sorely mistaken. You may have got your apology, but you've lost a friend,” Thierry said bitterly, turning his good eye away from her so he didn't have to look at her.

It was better if he didn't. All she would've seen was disgust and loathing. Hatred that he'd been tricked into spending so much time worrying about her and concerning himself with how to fix things when she had not given him the same courtesy. 

The air felt charged, and he heard her inhale with intent to speak. He didn't want to hear it.

He moved towards the other entrance to their quarters and made it clear that he _would_ be the one to leave first this time. It was his turn to take time and wait for an apology. But he didn't dare pray for one. 

It wouldn't have mattered. The damage was done, and he wasn't certain he could ever trust Eliza with his thoughts or feelings again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Who's right? Who is the real victim? Is there only one? You tell us.


End file.
